Class Distinction
by RachelStonebreaker
Summary: *COMPLETE* Our favorite hobbits, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin on one summer day when all were carefree and young.
1. Default Chapter

~ Author's notes: Disclaimers: nope, they are not mine. I just enjoy foolin' with 'em. Mr. Tolkien was a grand master and I hope I'm not insulting him by caring about his cute little creations. And the wild rumor that I am a pervy hobbit fancier is just that. Wild. I won't deny or confirm the "rumor" part of that statement. ** NO SLASH ** but some angst in later chapters (come on, how can there NOT be angst?).  
  
  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter 1 ~ A visit to Uncle Bilbo's.  
  
Merry and Pippin, age 16 and 8, skipped happily down the lane on an extraordinarily hot, hot summer day. They wore shorts and nothing else, although neither one had been let out of their respective parents' control without proper shirts. But they were boys after all. Well, boys in their parents' view, for 16 was still quite young for a hobbit. Neither could be blamed for shedding said "proper" shirts by the first tree outside of the Took's family home where Merry was staying whilst his father did business in Hobbiton. He had been allowed to spend the last three nights with his cousin Pippin as he didn't often get to see the Took side of the family being as how Brandyhall (the ancestrial home of the Brandybucks) was some 2- 3 days away by foot. And now they had spent the better part of an hour walking from to their uncle's house in Hobbiton. They'd been lucky enough to cajole a ride from a friend who was heading in the general direction. But they were on their own, or more precisely, on their feet for the last three miles. They were expected, by their uncle and second cousin, to spend the evening at Bag End, their uncle's nicely appointed hobbit hole. The Took, as Pippin's father was called, was to drop by late the next evening to pick up the boys and return Merry to his father's care. So the cousins spent many of their summer days, visiting and playing and generally goofing off.  
  
Whistling a jaunty tune, Merry ran on ahead of his younger cousin. Turning around while running backwards he taunted Pippin. "I could run circles around you Pippin, you are SO slow". Then to emphasis this obvious physical superiority, he did just that. He ran circles around the already exhausted Pippin.  
  
Until Pippin, tired of a game he had absolutely no chance of winning, threw himself sideways just as Merry passed by on the second circuit. Pippin didn't think of what would happen when he pulled this stunt (trying to trip up his older cousin). Pippin often didn't think of the consequences of his actions (an unfortunate trait he was to carry with him until he was well into his 40's). And to the dismay of both, they crashed down. Hard. It was not a graceful fall. If anyone had witnessed it, they would have let out a sympathetic "ouch" when both boys smashed into the packed earth, the much smaller Pippin on the bottom. Merry was up first with a bloody nose. Pippin just lay there, on his side, knowing that the scrapped knees and elbow were going to hurt very badly in about 4 seconds. He was right. They did hurt. Amazingly so. And what was worse was Merry's ranting while he bled all over the younger boy. "Oh now THIS is lovely!" Pippin thought. "Why's he so irate? A bloody nose will stop soon enough. It's not like he has to live with bloodied knees." And he winced at the thought of the agony awaiting him for the next 4 or 5 days as the joints crusted over with HUGE nasty scabs. You must understand that Pip had extreme experience with nasty scabs. He lay still on the ground, winded and sulking.  
  
"You NIT" shouted Merry. "What got into your head!!!! Oh, I FORGOT, NOTHING" and the 'nothing' was screamed at full volume, sending more blood flying. And with that Merry flopped on the ground next to Pippin, pinching his nose to stop the bleeding. For, you see, he really did care about his friend and Pippin's silence and refusal to get up, let alone move, had frightened him. "You OK, Pip?" he asked nasally through his pinched off nose. And with his free hand, he patted Pippin consolingly.  
  
"Yes, I suppose I'll live, but I won't be skipping anytime soon" he answered rolling over on to his back and looking up at the sky. He had finally caught his breath and dared to straighten his legs and scraped elbow. "Youch!" he yelped and then tried to bend them back to a less excruciating position, causing only more agony. "Stars in HEAVEN, that hurts!!!!" he yelled.  
  
"Yeah, it LOOKS bad, too" answered Merry, patting Pippin again, as if that would relieve any pain. "Come on, let's get up and get to Uncle Bilbo's. He'll have something to put on those scrapes". Dreading to stand, Pippin just lay there feeling incredibly sorry for himself and making a mental note to never try to trip up someone by throwing oneself in their path. Especially on a hard packed cart path that hadn't seen rain in a month.  
  
~ end Chapter One 


	2. Bag End

Class Distinction  
  
~ Author's notes: Sorry, forgot to put these in the first chapter…. The ages of the characters are taken directly from JRRT's works. They sound odd, a 30 year old, a 16 year old and an 8 year old being good friends, but consider that hobbits don't mature the same way we do (after all they're not adults until they're in their 30's – OK, some of us aren't adults until we're in our 30's either, but I'm talking "legally"). I have tried to be a authentic to Tolkien's work as possible. If I've made a mistake, feel free to correct me. I'm not made of asbestos, but I'm learning to put my shields up. ~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Chapter Two ~ Bag End  
  
The two cousins indeed made it the rest of the way to their uncle's house with Merry carrying Pippin some of the way, at least until he, too, was worn out. The gardener and his son were out in the front hand watering the vegetables and flowers to preserve the bloom in this wretchedly hot season. Hamfast, the old gardener, called out to his son to step lively with the two pails of water just fetched from the large barrel they both had brought up from the river in a borrowed pony cart. All of the homes on Bagshot Row got their drinking (and bathing) water from the communal cistern buried in the back of the hill. In normal years, it collected enough rainwater to supply all the hobbits who accessed it.  
  
But this was no ordinary year and water rationing was in effect. If anyone wished to use more than their meager allotted share they had to bring it to their home (or garden) themselves from the river. Now, Bilbo Baggin's gardener was extremely proud of his work and refused to let a little extra sunshine spoil his hard won efforts. So, he and his son, Sam, labored the additional hours required to bring in enough water to keep everything, if not lush, then at least alive, until the expected rains came. And according to the Gaffer**, that's what folks called Old Gamgee, who knew a bit about weather and had seen enough seasons to know that when the rains came, they'd be bailing out the peas and tomatoes to keep them from drowning. Sam sighed. Being 2 years older than Merry, he, like Merry, was still considered a boy by legal standards, but he worked like an adult when in the company of his father. They were the hired help and their livelihoods depended on the quality of the work they performed. While Meriadoc (Merry) was a Brandybuck and therefore belonged to a very high rank, he was allotted the privilege of occasionally skipping out on his chores to visit with friends. And Peregrin (Pippin) was a Took who did pretty much as he pleased being the favorite son (well, really, the ONLY son) of an indulgent father who happened to be the Thain of his community (and a hell raiser in his own right as a youngster – and HE turned out just fine, thank you, with not too many beatings).  
  
But back to Sam and the work he did with his father. Hamfast Gamgee never failed to remember that he came from a modest farming family. Having taken a tremendous risk with his cousin by leaving the farm to become gardeners "in town", he worked his way up in society (as he thought of it, but NEVER voiced as that would be pretentious, not that the Gaffer even used a word like that but it was true none the less) … So having worked his way to a very respectable home on Bagshot Row he was immensely proud that he was no longer a tenant farmer; though it was nothing to be ashamed about, the farmers were what fed a goodly number of those who didn't have the skills nor time to do for themselves in the crops department. No one else in the family had managed to move up so far so fast. Not even his cousin. And to be fair, although the Gaffer was an incredibly hard working and very smart hobbit, he wouldn't have done so well if Old Bilbo hadn't retained him as his personal gardener many, many years ago, and given him extra land to work so that he and the Mrs. could afford to buy their home down the lane. For Bilbo Baggins, although odd and often times accused of being eccentric (not a good thing for a hobbit), was nicely settled as a very well to do (some whispered behind their hands "incredibly WEALTHY") Gentlehobbit who could afford a gardener and enjoyed the bounty provided by the Gamgee family. But enough about Old Bilbo and enough of the Gaffer's opinions for now ~ it's poor Samwise who was entitled to a few wandering thoughts. Sam struggled under the load of two full buckets as Merry and Pippin limped on past him. Nary a "Hullo Sam" nor a nod in his direction did they give him for Pippin was rather wrapped up in his own obvious miseries and Merry rarely made it a habit to talk to other peoples' staff.  
  
~ end Chapter Two  
  
** Hamfast was affectionately called Gaffer by nearly everyone in Hobbiton. Gaffer means grandfather in our tongue and doesn't necessarily imply the Gaffer is actually one's true grandfather. It's used endearingly to mean one who is aged enough and wise enough to warrant being called Grandfather. 


	3. Thirsty Plants Won’t Wait

Class Distinction  
  
~ Author's note – Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Chapter Three ~ Thirsty Plants Won't Wait  
  
But the Gaffer knew which side his bread was buttered on and he was quick to offer assistance to the two young kin of his boss. "Here now, young masters! You look mightily abused! Now, it's obvious you've walked a fair bit in that condition and it's still a hard climb up this here hill. You sit down there on that bench and I'll fetch yer uncle to come out and see to you." And with that Sam knew enough to put down the buckets, open the gate and help the two tired hobbits to the bench. "Sam, be a good lad and bring us some of that water you set down. I've got a powerful thirst" directed Merry. "Oh, no sir, you wouldn't be wantin' to drink none of that, it's from the river and it's none too pure" answered Sam. And hearing no direction from Mister Brandybuck nor Mister Took as to whether, yes, he should give them the river water or , no, he should go fetch them some fresh, Sam took his leave and followed his father up the hill to the house to return with some drinking water.  
  
Bilbo fairly flew out of the house as Sam was walking in the door. "Oh, excuse me Sam" Bilbo called out as he rushed past the boy. "Now, where are these two grievously injured lads?"  
  
"Oh, Uncle Bilbo, it's not really THAT bad, just some scrapes" answered Pip as he tried to stand to greet his flustered Uncle (who was really his third cousin twice removed or was it second cousin twice removed or …..[depends on which side of the family you traced, they were all related somewhere on both sides]. But because Bilbo was so much older all of the first/second/third cousins called him Uncle. It was a habit started by Frodo, Bilbo's cousin's son). But Pippin fell back to the seat with a not very well concealed yelp. "Shouldn't popped up there, silly!" chided Merry.  
  
"Oh dear, oh dear. Do let me help you! Ham! You fetch some cloths and set some water to boil". By this time, Frodo, came out the doorway as the Gaffer hurried in. Frodo was Bilbo's adopted heir; he was thought of as a son to Old Bilbo, who was too busy having adventures to ever settle down. Not that many a hobbit maid would have settled for settling down with an adventurer. It was highly untoward for any hobbit to stray outside of the next Farthing let alone the next country, as was Bilbo's want from time to time. That's why he was considered so eccentric. He loved adventure and long hikes. Hikes that took months sometimes. But he came from an incredibly respected family and he had money. Lots of it if you listened to the rumors. And given that his slightly padded hobbit physique belied his ability to feed himself nicely, his clothes were always quite smart, and that he could afford to lavish extras on his family and sometimes on his friends ~ well then you might just believe those rumors… Frodo had just left the study after he heard Bilbo's exclamations in response to Hamfast's calls for aid to investigate the matter of the "grievously injured lads".  
  
And upon seeing his younger cousins he stopped up short. "Oh, my, just WHAT have you two gotten into this time? Not a hornets' nest again? No, those don't look like welts to me! Oh, Merry, that looks DISGUSTING!" This remark of Frodo's came at seeing the copious amount of dried blood all down Merry's face and chest.  
  
"Oh, THAT'S nothing!" interjected Pippin. "Just look at these" and he proudly pointed to his knees, wisely with the hand that was not attached to the scraped elbow.  
  
"Uggh! Those are even worse! It's amazing that you can do this nearly every day and still not bleed to death!" Frodo remarked as he screwed up his face and looked from one lad to the other. Sam stood patiently behind Frodo with the drinking water in small jug in one hand and two ceramic cups dangling from his other. As Bilbo helped Merry to his feet, Frodo stepped back. He tripped over Sam, grabbing the young gardener as they both nearly tumbled to the ground.  
  
"Look who's talking, Mister graceful-as-a-swan!" retorted Merry. And then he laughed knowing that Frodo wouldn't take offense. Frodo never took offense. Merry had been his best friend for most of his young life. They had grown up together in Brandyhall. But Frodo had been gone from Buckland a good number of years and while he and Merry were still close, sometimes Frodo lamented that they didn't live nearer to each other. He missed a dear friend and Frodo delighted in being socialable. And Pippin while fun was just 8 years old and Frodo often felt he was too old to play most of the games Pip enjoyed. There weren't many local lads who would give him the time of day being that he grew up in another town and was adopted by crazy old Bilbo Baggins.  
  
Sam managed to not spill much of the water nor break either of the mugs. Frodo appoligized to the youngster as he helped him up and took the water from him. "Oh, no sir, I can do this" Sam said as he took a mug back from Frodo and waited while Frodo insisted on helping by pouring out some water for Mister Merry. Then with only one cup to manage Sam insisted on taking the jug and pouring some water for Mister Pippin. By that time his father had trundled down the hill to help Frodo and Bilbo hobbit-handle the walking wounded up the stairs to the house.  
  
Sam trailed behind, cups and jug in hand, water buckets forgotten at the bottom of the hill. But they weren't forgotten for long for as soon as Sam crossed the threshold his father called out to him, "Samwise, now you go out there and finish what waterin' ye can – for those plants don't know that these two young sirs need tendin'. Them plants will be dying of thirst as we sit here that's for sure. And they can't be awaitin' for you to gawk at a few cuts and bruises". "Yes, sir" was all Sam replied and sighing again, he set down the cups and the jug on the nearest table, closing the door behind him as he returned to the merciless sun and the thirsty plants.  
  
~ end chapter three 


	4. The Swimming Party

~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter Four ~ The Swimming Party  
  
"Weeds in the clover!" thought Sam as he dutifully hauled water up the long climb to the top of Master Bilbo's front garden hill. But when he stood up to stretch his back and to take a breath, he looked about at all of the other gardens and front hills that he could see and he smiled. His dad's work was by far the best. No one else still had blooms and most everyone else's peas had withered on the vine. Mere wasted tendrils of dry straw colored crisps told the tale of too little water in too long a time. It was worth it to be able to smell the green. And, despite the heat of the day, Sam knew that standing in this patch of green, he was cooler than any of those he could see walking along the paths. But there weren't many walking about in this heat. No and not a soul in their right mind was sitting on their steps or on a front bench. Their hobbit holes were by far cooler than anywhere in a garden out in the sun. But Sam wasn't afforded the luxury of sitting inside, sipping a fruit-ade and enjoying a bit of gossip. He was working for his family as was proper for one in his class. Oh, he was aware, even though he was young, that there was a distinct class structure in the Shire. Although he was beginning to understand that some of those in the privileged class didn't really care to consider that there was such a thing as a lower class, only because they didn't really care to consider anyone beneath them as worthy of being cared about. Certainly this didn't hold true for the Baggins. For neither Bilbo nor Frodo had anything but nice words to say to the Gamgees. But still, his dad was insistent that while Master Bilbo and Mister Frodo always treated them kindly, they, the Gamgees were never to forget that they worked for the Baggins and were not to ever step over the bounds of the master / servant relationship. It just wasn't proper. Nor smart. Other hobbits in the Baggins' social circle already thought Master Bilbo a tad off because of his adventuring habit. He didn't need no upstart of a Gamgee helpin' to ruin his reputation (oh, no, in MY opinion, Bilbo was quite capable of doing that all by himself – now, where was I, oh, yes) by acting more friendly or forward than was appropriate.  
  
Now, originally, when Merry and Pippin had set out that morning, their intent was to ask Frodo if he would come out to play. Or to swim was actually more like it. For although the majority of hobbits didn't swim and more specifically would not abide the water for fear of drowning, all three cousins not only could swim but truly enjoyed it. Merry and Frodo had grown up "on the river" so to speak and Frodo taught Pippin to swim almost as soon as he could walk. Pippin, being the fearless (and somewhat death defying) Took that he was, gladly accepted Frodo's challenge to learn something that most hobbits wouldn't be caught dead doing. Well, actually, most hobbits that tried WERE caught dead doing it. They tended to sink like stones.  
  
They were now anxious to get in the swim they had been planning for the past two days. "Frodo, what say we go hop down to the river and cool off a bit, eh?" Asked Merry as the three sat by an open window in the study playing at a game of cards. "Oh, no, not hop, not me, least ways" commented Pippin as he laid down a winning hand and grinned from ear to ear. "Gotcha again, lads, you are now BOTH at my mercy, as you have lost miserably and have no hope of redemption!" "Ack! Never! I will never submit to the will of a Took!" shouted Merry in mock defiance. Truth be told, both Frodo and Merry had agreed to let Pip win to help take his mind off his (grossly, in his opinion) scrapped knees. And elbow. Let's not forget that elbow. It would be the Harvest Moon before he forgot about that elbow, too. Frodo slapped Pippin upside the back of his head and Merry snatched away his fruit-ade and gulped it down. "There now, know your place, youngster, you'll not be mouthing off to you elders!" menaced Merry as he brandished the now empty glass in Pippin's face. "All right, all right, you two" laughed Frodo, the boys really were a hand full to be around; they were so silly all the time. "Let's tell Uncle Bilbo we're off and be on our way, the day's not getting any cooler." And that was a fact, it was just past one and the hottest part of the day was yet to come.  
  
~ end Chapter Four 


	5. The Retort

~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1. Well, is it coherent and decent enough to continue to the end? There is an end at nine chapters.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter Five ~ Retort  
  
After the boys explained their plans, Bilbo sent Pippin and Merry off to the pantry to pack a snack (he knew this would probably be a mistake as that peach pie he had been saving for tea would most likely not even make it out of the pantry let alone near a table). Now the eldest hobbit pulled Frodo aside and whispered, "why don't you see if young Sam wants to go with you. He's been worked by his father since sun up and he's not the strength of his older brothers to keep at that back breaking labor all day. I'll speak with Ham and clear it." Bilbo patted Frodo gently on the shoulder and added, " The lad deserves a little free time".  
  
"All right, I'll do just that." replied Frodo. He could honestly say that he was a bit pleased with the idea of taking Sam along. Sam was close to Merry's age but ever so much more calm and unassuming. Frodo at 30 years old, was really the "elder" amongst all the cousins. Yet he was still considered a youngster by all of the adults (he would officially become an adult in a few years with his coming of age party). He therefore couldn't very well insinuate himself into the adult conversations that often took place when Bilbo's friends came to visit. Although most everyone agreed that Frodo was uncommonly mature for his age, they still looked upon him as, well, just a lad.  
  
But with Sam, Frodo felt free to voice his opinions, unlike any latest attempt at conversing with Merry. Recently he could expect a snap-your- head-off come back or a one-up attempt at proving himself better from any attempt at serious discussions with Merry. Not that Merry was a terrible companion, it's just that as he closed in on his tweenage years, he was getting a little big for his britches and could be quite bossy and "know-it- all". Sam never expressed any smart aleck sass. Frodo's other close cousin, Fredegar (or Fatty as everyone affectionately called him, for even for a hobbit, Fredegar was largish), Now, where was I, oh, yes, Fredegar rarely had the time in the summer to just "hang out" (his free time was mostly during the winter, something that saved Frodo's sanity innumerable times during the sometimes long and boring cold months). And Pippin was just plain exhausting to be around. One could wear oneself out just watching that boy run about.  
  
So, with the thought of actually having an intelligent conversation with someone other than his uncle, Frodo was off to see if Sam would go to the river with them.  
  
"I'm not so sure I'd enjoy that sort of outing, if you get my meaning, Mister Frodo" was Sam's reply when Frodo asked him along on the swimming party venture. "I don't cosy up to the idea of swimmin', no I don't. It's not right, I mean, well, beggin' your pardon sir, but hobbits don't belong in nor on the water, in my opinion". This was one of those rare occasions when Sam said more than a half a dozen words at one time. He was typically shy and not one to be vociferous. Though he could be very straightforward when provoked. This was obviously one of those times. And besides, he knew he could be completely honest with Frodo, who seemed to have taken it as his mission in life to make sure Sam actually had a life outside of the garden. Frodo looked downcast. He'd enjoyed the idea of bringing along Sam for the outing. Besides being a chance to have a meaningful discourse with someone, it was an opportunity to get the lad out into the water, maybe even swimming. Which meant possibly getting him over one more hurdle that seemed to keep Sam roped into the belief that he really wasn't as good as other folks. For Sam could think this way, being the cautious young hobbit that he was. Now, don't get me wrong. Sam was no gloom and doom storm-cloud carrier. He was quite a pleasure to be around when he was in his own element, so to speak. He loved to talk about anything to do with gardening and to listen to wild stories about creatures far off and times long ago. And he was getting along admirably in learning his letters. When he would express them, his ideas were rather good, usually. Now, where was I, oh yes. Sam stuffed his hands into his front pockets upon seeing Frodo's disappointed expression and added, "now, don't you go worrying about young Sam. You go right on, Mister Frodo and enjoy yourself. You know I'm greatly afeard of that river and wouldn't be nothing but a drag on the party".  
  
But Frodo wouldn't take "no" for an answer for he was somewhat stubborn himself and also very skilled in convincing Sam that he could do anything if he put his mind to it. And then there was the fact that Sam realized if he went along with Frodo at least until he could see the river, it was time well spent away from the gritty work waiting for him in the garden. By this time Merry and Pippin had emerged victorious from not only the main pantry but one of the secondary pantries as well with a basket between them and grins wider than old fat cousin Fredegar's backside. Frodo casually informed them that Sam was going along. They shrugged, handed the basket over to Sam and headed off, not at a hop or a trot (in deference to Pip's ailments) but a slow meander. So Sam traipsed off along beside Frodo as they followed Merry and Pippin down the path to the river. Of course the two youngest in the group were by this time holding a contest to see who could push over the other one while keeping at least one foot on the ground and one foot in the air at all times.  
  
When they came in view of the small stream they frequently called "the river", Sam stopped. Pippin had already stripped out of his shorts and had run head long, headless of the scabs already forming on his poor misused knees, with a whoop and a shout into the water. Merry seemed to have caught his foot in his shorts and stood half-naked while trying to free himself cursing up a blue streak, so much in a hurry he was to jump in and cool off. Frodo continued on down the path at a more leisurely pace, smiling at Pip's screams and hoots and splashes. Merry had finally freed himself from the troublesome clothes and had joined his cousin in seeing who could yell the loudest and splash the most water. Sam still stood where he seemed to have grown roots. No nearer to the water. And certainly with no intention of following Frodo's suit in stripping off his shirt and braces (for being the more sensible of the four, these two wore more respectable summer outfits than JUST short pants). Frodo stopped undressing when he noticed Sam still holding the picnic basket but unblinking and unmoving.  
  
"Come on Sam, it'll be fun! You don't have to swim like Pip! You can just wade about…". Pippin choose that moment to dunk Merry under the water and hold him there by throwing his full weight on the older lad. Merry, in mock terror, flailed his hands about, pretending to be in dire distress. In all reality, if he just stood up, he'd toss Pip to the side and be quiet fine. But Sam was undeniably frightened by this and knew *for a fact* that if he moved any closer Pip would try to drown him as well. It was a natural fear. Pippin could be rather careless at times.  
  
"You won't be getting me to go in that there water near some addle patted out-of-control Took who obviously delights in drowning folks, no Mister Frodo you won't!" stammered Sam in indignation, defiance and, well, to be honest, unbridled terror. "That Peregrin Took is an idiot and dangerous as well!!!! And that Brandybuck, Meriadoc t'aint much better!!!" And he glared at the now silent trio of cousins.  
  
  
  
~ end chapter Five  
  
authors note ~ eyes wide and mouth open "oh, my, SAM!" 


	6. The Rebuke

~ Author's notes: So sorry, this chapter is HUGE. I've been asked that the antics of Merry and Pippin become a bigger part of the story. I had all but written them out at this point.  
  
The whole story was originally three chapters attempting to explain why Frodo's friends treated Sam with indifference (at least until he proved himself in Moria). And besides, I guess I could be called a closet pervy hobbit fancier…. Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter Six ~ Rebuke  
  
Sam instantly knew his mistake. Pippin took no offense to Sam's obviously rude comments about him, being incredibly naïve and not very concerned about social faux pas. He just shrugged his shoulders, grabbed Merry's hand and tried to pull his cousin down into the stream. When Merry wouldn't budge, he decided to ignore everyone and go have fun by himself. Off into the water he belly flopped and started swimming (although it was but knee deep to him right there, he still managed to make pretty a good show).  
  
Merry on the other hand could be said to have been slightly offended. Actually, he was a tad bit MORE than slightly offended, he was mighty annoyed. He walked out of the water and started up the path with an expression that said, "step over here and I'll wax your ears, you insolent twit".  
  
Frodo stood aghast. He had never heard Sam speak out so, especially about the cousins. And while Frodo sincerely liked Sam and often forgot that he was supposed to treat him as hired help, Frodo was smart enough to realize that a remark like that in front of Sam's father would get Sam a whipping he would not forget for many, many years. Frodo knew that he couldn't let the comment go unchecked if nothing more than to teach Sam to be more cautious with his opinions (for truly he did think of him as a friend and didn't want to see him whipped from hear to next Tuesday). "Samwise Gamgee!" he rebuked.  
  
Sam was stout and considered big for his age, but Frodo could carry himself far better than the young gardener would ever know how and right now, Frodo had drawn himself up to his full height and displayed the sternest expression Sam had ever seen on the young Baggins' face. Merry was advancing fast and between Frodo and Merry he knew his goose was cooked. What was even more dismaying was he knew that after the forthcoming sound thrashing he was about to receive, his Dad would hear about it and THEN he'd really be in trouble. Oh, WHY did he ever even agree to come along. His was not a place beside these well-to-do lads who braved some of the most fearful things all in the name of fun. He was far too simple for their likes and adventures. And now his fears had found him out and his tongue had gotten him into a trouble. He hung his head in shame really not wanting to see how angry Frodo had become. He expected Mister Merry's ire but he couldn't abide Mister Frodo being upset at him. Pippin still frolicked in the water and Sam could hear the laughing and splashing. It seemed to him at this moment the laughter was aimed at him. His stomach hurt and he felt sick. If the cousins didn't do it then his dad was literally going to flail him for this blunder.  
  
Luckily for Sam, Frodo caught Merry before he had made it very far up the path. With a hand on Merry's arm he turned around the obviously irate hobbit. They just stood looking at each other, not saying a word. It was as if a communication were taking place that only they two could hear. For once, Merry backed down and didn't smart off to Frodo. Perhaps he realized that being the younger of the two it wasn't his place to defend the family honour. Or perhaps he thought, Sam being Frodo's servant, it was Frodo's place to take him to task. Or perhaps he secretly was glad that Frodo had stopped him from getting into a fight as HIS father would tan HIS hide [again]. Or perhaps he just trusted Frodo to do the right thing. He nodded ever so imperceptibly and backed away two steps and folded his arms over his chest.  
  
Frodo stepped forward to confront Sam. "That is no way to talk about Mister Peregrin and Mister Meriadoc! You ought to be ashamed!" Frodo attempted to imitate the most authoritarian voice he'd ever heard, his cousin Lobelia Sackville-Baggins. Then a shade more gently, because it was quite obvious as the nose on his face that Sam was quaking "now there, set down that basket and apologize for the rudeness."  
  
Thankfully Sam's preservation instincts kicked into high gear and over rode his natural tendency be silent in stressful situations. "Mister Brandybuck, please accept my humble apology for being unaccountably rude and most undeniably thoughtless". If he'd thought about it, he'd have been rather pleased that he spoke so eloquently, he didn't even know that he knew those grand words. Though he said nearly all of it while looking down at the ground. Either it was Merry's acceptance that Frodo knew what he was doing or the apology really was that good, Merry seemed mollified enough to uncross his arms and look over at Frodo confirming that nothing else was needed from him. He disliked acting the adult. His own father constantly disciplined him that some day, he would be Master of Buckland and therefore needed to thoroughly understand tact, diplomacy and peacekeeping. He was no longer allowed to participate in brawling nor to provoke the youngsters to tantrums. There was hardly any fun left in Brandyhall…. So, with the onerous burden of chastising the surly help having been taken care of, Merry promptly turned around and walked back to the water.  
  
"Pippin, come out of the water, NOW, and present yourself" shouted Frodo to his delinquent cousin. Honestly, you'd think that child could make this task easier by paying attention and not wandering off when he was expected to accept Sam's act of contrition.  
  
Merry slapped Pippin hard on the ass as the youngest cousin scampered out of the water and the older waded in. "Yow!!!" yelled Pippin and he tried to get a swat in before Merry dove away but wasn't successful. He was just getting ready to follow suit when Frodo practically screamed at the top of his lungs.  
  
"PIPPIN! Front And Center!". By now Sam was nearly a quivery bowl of jelly, hearing Frodo yell so. Pippin, too, realized that he'd better straighten up and step lively or he would be in for more than a swat on the rear end.  
  
"Yes sir, here I am." He stood next to Frodo, naked, water dripping from his unruly hair, absurd grin on his face. And then he shook his head like a wet dog sending water cascading everywhere. He looked up and grinned even bigger if it were possible.  
  
"Oh, my, how can I take this seriously" thought Frodo, successfully hiding the smile that was forming after experiencing the irrepressible good humor of the youngest Took. Frodo turned his look to Sam, who had been forced by the unexpected shower to look up from the ground where his eyes had been riveted since the last bellowing command had been issued. Frodo nodded at Sam as a signal to speak.  
  
Now Sam's eloquence failed and he barely whispered "Mister Took, I am sorry for my disrespectful comment. Please accept my apology." And he looked down again, very quickly.  
  
"No problem!" replied Pippin casually. And he reached over and patted Sam on the arm as a sign that he really could care less about what had been said. Pippin then looked expectantly at Frodo for the excuse to go finish playing. Frodo nodded and he was off in a flash to find Merry and pay him back for the red mark that was now brightly displayed on his backside.  
  
Frodo sighed. How HE hated playing the grown up hobbit when it came to times like this! With the sounds of splashing and general mayhem going on in the background, he took Sam's arm, much as he had taken Merry's and turned him around to walk him down the lane so the others wouldn't hear what was to follow (for though he was engaged, Merry still kept an eye on the situation, assuring himself that all was proper and right. He COULD be nosy and bossy at times, thought Frodo). Sam obediently allowed himself to be directed. "Sam…. I think you understand the gravity of saying what is on your mind when it isn't appropriate, am I right?" Sam could just nod his head the lump in his throat was so big. "Good then. I think you've learned your lesson. We'll all just let this pass now. I see no need to bring it up again, do you?" Sam shook his head in agreement. Frodo sighed again, this time in relief that the whole event was now over and he could get back to the primary reasons he walked all this way from Bag End, and that would be swimming and quite possibly an intelligent conversation which might even entail some new ideas to think on.  
  
He was beginning to believe he might turn this into a game to coerce Sam into the water, after all he had one up on Sam now. To Frodo, the event was a done deal. He said in his best not-quite-a-taunt-not-quite-challenge voice "Now, come on, you know 'I' go swimming all the time, so where's the harm in it? Come on now." But to Sam the whole event had been a serious dressing down and a frightening experience. He was embarrassed and his pride was damaged from having being called on the carpet in front of two hobbits who were younger than him. He never minded calling Mister Frodo "Mister" or Master Bilbo "Master". They were older and he worked for them. They were incredibly wonderful hobbits. It just seemed natural. It was the way it was supposed to be. But sometimes having to give in to the likes of those younger than him was more than he could stand! And now, here was Mister Frodo insisting he do something he vehemently *did not* want to do, go into the water! Especially knowing what he knew about Frodo and the reason why he lived at Bag End instead of at Brandyhall near the Brandywine River. He was beside himself!  
  
Before Sam knew what was coming out of his mouth he snapped, "I don't see how you can be going near that water when you know…… you know…..your parents…..". His hand flew up to cover his mouth and his eyes opened wide. He couldn't finish his sentence because he realized, horror-struck that he had, again, overstepped his place and was bringing up something that one's servant did NOT bring up to one's master, even if that master was a friend, as Sam had always considered Frodo. (How could he not think of Frodo as a friend? Frodo had always, always, always been there for Sam. Teaching him to climb trees, to build snow-hobbits, and with Master Bilbo's help to actually READ. Frodo always encouraged the introverted shy youngster to take a hold of his fears and face them so he could conquer them. Frodo's support over these few short years had meant the world to Sam, whose closest siblings were naught but sisters). But still, something that Sam had learned early on, and right now he couldn't remember just when, was that it was terribly important not to bring up the master's sordid family issues. But Frodo calmly sat down with his back to the stream and patted the ground beside him inviting Sam to sit down, too. Or was it demanding? Sam wasn't too sure. Frodo's face was impassive. So Sam sat down. Not too close, but not so far away as to appear insolent. Oh, he was now sure he was dead meat when his dad heard about this. He was visibly shaking. "Samwise" he thought, "just keep your mouth closed. Remember dad taught you there's a good reason why we've got two ears and only one mouth. Perhaps he'll just sew mine shut and not kill me straight out".  
  
~ end Chapter Six  
  
~ author's note: that's the start of the angst. I hope it wasn't unrealistic. 


	7. The Confession

~ Author's notes: EEEK. A number of you have mentioned something I was hoping to just ignore! This story is disjointed in that it starts with Merry and Pippin happily skipping along and then takes a hard left into Sam and Frodo and their relationship. Ooops. yeah, it's bad writing. As I explained to one private message, I let Merry and Pippin run wild and look where it go me… those two weren't supposed to be such a big part of this story. And I'm still learning how to write coherently. Reviews on how to improve this would be greatly appreciated.  
  
So the story is SUPPOSED to be about Class Distinction in the Shire. If one reads a number of essays on JRRT and his possible concern at the dwindling aristocracy and rising of the hitherto unwashed masses (who at his time were had become the voting working class), then one might surmise that he designed the inner workings of the Shire's class system to mirror the idyllic upper class view on Britain's county folk. If you want my 20 year old theory on this as it pertains to our favorite hobbit's families, then ask and I may put it in the notes of the next chapter. Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter Seven ~ The Confession  
  
Frodo and Sam sat side by side on the ground, neither looking at the other.  
  
"My parents drown. They did not kill each other. There is nothing more to their deaths than one fell out of the boat and the other tried to help but fell in, too. That's one of the reasons I learned how to swim." Frodo delivered this tale in a way that said he'd recited it a million times to convince himself of its truth.  
  
"You should learn to swim too. It's a good skill to know and it might serve you well some day. You never know". And with this Frodo sneaked a sideways peek at Sam. Poor, frightened, shivering Samwise Gamgee who looked as if Frodo would eat him as surely as a dragon eats a stray cow it finds in the field.  
  
"Oh, my dear Sam!" exclaimed Frodo, suddenly understanding that the 18 year old would certainly never forgive himself and that he had indeed been a bit harsh in his correction. And with that realization, Frodo not having a mean bone in his body and honestly liking this very likeable lad, reached over and hugged Sam. Just like that. And Frodo laughed softly, hugging Sam even harder. It was the touch of a friend saying, "everything is forgiven, everything is all right."  
  
Frodo was the most amazing hobbit Sam knew. He was convinced of this, thoroughly and through to the heart. He felt like he was 15 again and they were out playing in the fields and Frodo was terribly concerned that he was afraid to stay out past dark. So Frodo devised a camp out on the hill backside of Gamgees' home where Sam could pop inside if he couldn't stand it. But with Frodo by his side all night, telling him funny stories and grand tales; feeding him sweet sticky buns and hot milk heated over a tiny little fire specifically built to give Sam some much needed light, he made it though the night. That memory was just one of many that could have come into Sam's head as Frodo hugged him close. How could this hobbit from the upper class be so kind to him? Frodo had a heart of gold, that's why. Sam wasn't to realize until later that his dad and Master Bilbo had a similar friendship. One extended by a Baggins and somewhat gingerly taken at first and then wholeheartedly grasped by a Gamgee. And repaid by devotion, love and a fierce loyalty. At this time, he wasn't too sure of his place but he liked it that Frodo was willing to not eat him alive.  
  
"Now, you know what you did wrong and I know you won't be doing it again, so please, dearest Sam, don't beat yourself up about it, all right?" Frodo chided gently as he released his bear hug on Sam. But Sam had had enough lessons from his father to know that this was not something one just "forgot" contrary to what Mister Frodo let on. He still thought he'd was better off to fess up to his father than to risk it getting back to him. After all, the Misters Merry and Pippin were an unknown commodity to Sam. Those two would certainly let his father know, if not for the fact that he was a simple gardener's son then just because they were two chatter boxes who could not be shut up for a moments peace.  
  
No amount of coercion, chiding, or wheedling by Frodo could get Sam any nearer the water. Sam asked to be excused and with a sigh, Frodo let the lad start back home.  
  
And so, Sam walked back to Bag End by himself as the three genteel hobbits continued their play in the river that had caused him so much grief. When he got back to the garden, the Gaffer looked up in surprise. "I thought I'd given ye permission to go off and rest a bit with the young masters, Samwise?" And when Sam hung his head and didn't answer, the old man knew something had gone terribly afoul. Laying down the watering can, he said with no too little authority, "out with it lad, just what have ye done". "Oh, Dad, forgive me, but I have made the most terrible mistake I think I have ever, ever, ever done." And with that Sam sat down right where he was standing and burst into tears. The Gaffer knew that his son could be what one might call 'sensitive' in his younger days, still he hadn't seen him cry since he was but a young one of twelve. Sam was generally as solid as the earth Old Ham tended. He was sorely troubled, for this blow up meant something dreadful indeed had happened. "Well, now steady on lad, get up off that ground and let's walk down to the house where yer mother can fix us somethin' to eat and we can discuss this 'mistake' that you made".  
  
~ end Chapter Seven 


	8. A Talk

~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
Chapter Eight ~ A Talk  
  
After Sam finally explained all that had transpired between his outburst about the young Took, the subsequent gaffe about his cousin Meriadoc Brandybuck and then bringing up the rumor that Mister Frodo's parents had killed themselves, he was plumb worn out. He finished with Frodo's subsequent dressing down and sat silently biting his lip and heroically choking back tears. By now his mother was nearly beside herself. Not because of the social indiscretions her son had made. She agreed entirely with her son's rational fear of the water and was honestly disturbed that her son was distraught. This caused her more grief than any amount of slips of the tongue one young hobbit could ever effect. In truth his father was more concerned about his son's mental well being than with any harm that may have been done by his mis-speakings. Though he wasn't thinking of the natural fear of water but of the suffering Sam was experienceing. For he had caught something Sam had tried to dismiss during his recitation of the events and that was the acceptance by Frodo that the deeds were really not earth shattering, that the apologies had been accepted and that the matter was ended. And he knew that the young Took was indeed addle patted at times and the entire Shire would agree with that hands down, no questions asked. The Brandybucks lived quite a distance away and were considered somewhat a tad officious by most in Hobbiton. And everyone who was anybody (meaning all the upper crust and half of everybody else in the Shire) whispered and gossiped about Frodo's poor misfortune at having been orphaned in such a remarkably dreadful way. He also fully understood both Bilbo and Frodo (Hamfast was a shrewd hobbit, did I mention that?) wouldn't think twice about either incident and that none of this would ever leave Bag End and would never be brought up again. He knew without a doubt that neither Bilbo nor Frodo would even consider it worth a thought by the morning. They were just that kind of people. No recriminations. No backlashes. No accusations. Gentle. True gems among hobbit-kind. And that was one of the biggest reasons the Gamgees had enjoyed working for the Baggins. Theirs was a relationship where the efforts of hard work and honesty were well rewarded in trust and in friendship. But he had to decide what to do with the boy and the confession he had just heard. It wasn't their place to mouth off to their betters. No, it just wasn't proper. Things just didn't run smoothly if folks started steppin' out of their rightful places, and might a summer lightening storm strike him down, but the Baggins' were steppin' down out of their place often enough to take care of the Gamgees and the Baggins BOTH. But the agony Samwise was putting himself though was certainly punishment enough. Old Gamgee just needed to make sure the point got across but didn't stunt his son's naturally buoyant nature. He tried to both council and console his son with an off-handed, "now, there, you've gone and put your foot in your mouth, no doubt about it, and there isn't much you can do except take it out so you can stand up on both your feet and get on with your work."  
  
Sam was not yet so wise as his proper first name would imply (but this was to change as his trials later in life entitled him to bear his full name proudly) and he couldn't help but think that his father's endless lessons about "doin' the job what's been assigned ye" and in "mindin' one's manners around the 'high folk' " and "any job worth doing was worth doin' right" were anything except hard fast rules to live by. He feared a backlash or worse, a firing of his father by Master Bilbo. Especially once the elder Baggins caught wind of the insults Sam had so absurdly thrown at his extended family. He still didn't understand that while one must always strive to do what's right, when one makes a mistake and that mistake has been forgiven by those involved that one had an obligation to move on and forget about the past. Life was too short to be fretting over events that lost importance after they had passed. Hamfast realized that he'd better start instilling some of the lessons his own father had infused in him about enjoying things for what they were and not fretting too much over things that couldn't be changed.  
  
"Samwise" he said gently so as not to give the lad any alarm. "Ye needn't be o'erly concerned. I'll bring this up to Master Bilbo myself though I'm sure Mister Frodo wouldn't even consider it worth the time of day seeings how he's corrected the situation himself already. We'll just see what Master Bilbo thinks would be a fair penalty and we'll deal with it as a family". This truly frightened Sam for he was now convinced that his father expected to be let go as chief gardener at Bag End. His father excused him and knowing it was better to make himself less present in the current situation, he went to the room he shared with his older brother to await the inevitable.  
  
So it was that his father found him, late in the evening, after the Gaffer had finished up the work on the top of the hill and had a little talk with the garden's owner and the chief patriarch of supposably offended family. Sam had been too ill to even come out to dinner not to mention supper. The plate his mother had brought him sat untouched on the table against the wall. Next to it sat the papers with his practice letters that Mister Frodo had been encouraging him to work on over the summer months.  
  
Of course, Old Bilbo hadn't been offended in the least, had agreed that Pippin was out of control sometimes, that Merry could be a prankster beyond all hope and that Frodo had done the right thing in handling the situation then and there. He admitted that Frodo had not reported the incident to him stated that it was a done deal and probably already forgotten by everyone except Sam.  
  
Sam was overjoyed (an understatement) to hear that his dad was still gainfully employed. And that the skin was not to be flayed from his backside (although he did notice that the Gaffer gave him extra chores for the rest of the month). He was indeed a solid lad and after some more quiet talking between him and his father, and his mother brining in a hot plate of sliced pork with onions and carrots and gravy for the two to share as they talked over the next day's schedule, Sam perked up a bit and actually went to bed just a little worse for wear.  
  
It was probably the final sage words of his dear dad that shook off the dismay which had befallen the boy. When Sam asked why it was Pippin took no offense to his biting remark but if he had even so much as looked cross ways at another hobbit of good breeding (not that anyone could claim Pip was well bred, but hid DID come from a well-to-do family) Sam would have been dead before he hit the ground, his father answered "Now, it's my theory that thems as don't understand their proper class, such as the youngest Took" (he said in an aside as if to be polite), "or that upstart son of Sandyman the Miller (quite in a normal voice), do so through one of two reasons. They be either too young to know better (though their parent's should be taken to task for not teachin' 'em as soon as they can walk) or they be too ignorant to understand that this Shire runs smoothly because everyone knows their place". Folks start actin' out of turn and no one knows what to expect. Everyone minds their manners and there are no surprises. And he looked hard at his son. "Your place, lad, is beside me, making sure that the Baggins' gardens are the showplace of this Shire and to do after their owners as best we know how. They've been mighty kind to us and as they be truly gentle hobbits in all sense of the word. Master Bilbo has earned my respect and loyalty and this relationship extends to our families as well." He put his hand on his son's shoulder, "Do you understand that lad?" And Samwise answered with a quiet "Yessir, I do". And it finally dawned on the youngster that neither Master Bilbo nor Mister Frodo fit into either of the Gaffer's two examples. They weren't too young nor ignorant. Yet they both seemed to get away with sometimes stepping out of their rightful social circle by treating the Gamgees not like hired help but like friends that just happened to be do some work about the place. They got away with it because the Gaffer let them and made sure that by his and his family's actions that things didn't get "out of hand". And that was just fine by his father so it was to be just fine by the son as well.  
  
~ end Chapter Eight 


	9. A Matter of Honor

~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine ~ A Matter of Honor  
  
It was a number of days before Pippin and Merry actually left Bag End. Merry's father sent word the next day that he was being detained on business down in the South Farthing. He politely asked Bilbo to look after his son and passed along a request that the young Took be allowed to stay as well because it would be difficult to get someone from Tookland over to Hobbiton to pick up just one of the boys.  
  
Of course, Bilbo and Frodo were delighted. And it goes without saying that Merry and Pippin were ecstatic. The boys had a "campout" one night and two more trips to go swimming. One afternoon they pestered their uncle until he taught them how to make Buckleberry Tarts (a favorite of Bilbo's and therefore something he had perfected). They even tried their luck at digging a cavern like the one Uncle Bilbo told them about in the story of Smaug and the Treasure. But the ground was too dry and loose to hold up and they didn't have any mining skills. Two of them wound up being half buried while the eldest stood clear and laughed at the predicament. He was the smartest and had remained OUTSIDE of the hole to supervise.  
  
All this while the Gamgees continued to cart water up from the stream by borrowed pony cart to keep the gardens alive. The fifth day after the cousins' arrival, everyone awoke to the sound of rain. And it wasn't a soft pitter-patter either…. it was a deluge. The previous night the Gaffer and Bilbo sat on the front bench smoking their pipes and enjoying the breeze that had started up. The Gaffer could "smell" it, he said, referring to the coming rain. Bilbo had been noting the drop in pressure (his head sometimes acted like a barometer, especially in dry weather). Both were simply satisfied to sit and smoke and chat amiably before the torrent started. They'd seen enough dry and wet spells to know this one wasn't going to be a gully washer though it would be enough to warrant worrying about the gardens flooding. Living as they all did on a hillside meant that maintenance of the terracing, especially during dry spells was a must. All day the Gamgees had worked to trench and prepare for the coming floods. Ham and his three youngest worked on the Gamgees own plots as soon as the sun came up until lunch. They'd taken two breaks, second breakfast and elevensies. After they finished up at their place and had eaten a powerfully large lunch, the lasses stayed home to cook dinner while the lads headed up the hill to finish the Baggins' gardens. Ham planned on staying at Bag End into the night if need be to finish the work, the gardens there were extensive. He'd planned on working the Baggins' property first but after hearing this the night before, Bilbo insisted that Ham work his own property first because his gardens were mostly for feeding his family, while the majority of Bilbo's were just for looks. "Can't go having the family want, now" were his words as he clamped a solid hand on the Gaffer's shoulder to stop the protest forming on the old man's lips.  
  
By late afternoon with the work still not finished, Bilbo enlisted the three cousins' helpful hands. For once Pippin behaved and didn't start any brouhahas. He feared the wrath of the Gaffer. Hamfast Gamgee had a strap and wasn't afraid to use it on a wayward hobbit. Pip knew first hand about the strap after damaging some strawberry plants the previous year. By twilight, all the youngsters were beyond worn out, they literally dropped where they stood immediately after the Gaffer announced, "well, lads, I think that'll do it". Sam had worked all day and the other three were not used to hard labor, being gentle-hobbits, afterall. Even Bilbo was tired, for he had added his hands to the mix after tea. Ham was the only one not sweating like a plough horse. He was built for this kind of work and had years of practice. He was the one who actually went into Bag End and brought out drinks for his "crew".  
  
After a much-needed supper, served picnic style at Bag End courtesy of the Gamgee ladies, everyone lay about listening to the crickets. Pip was asking Merry how fireflies lit up and Merry was dissecting one to show him. He stuck one of the now gooey, still glowing truncated bulbs to Pippin's chest, much to the dismay of all Sam's sisters. Frodo was oblivious to the shrieks as he had already nodded off and Sam had fallen asleep resting against his father's legs. The youngest lads soon grew weary of tormenting bugs and piled up on top of Frodo, where the idea had been to start tickling him. They thought better of it after a cautionary hiss and a glare from their uncle. Too exhausted to even care Frodo just wrapped his arms around them to hold them still and soon all three dozed off.  
  
Sam's mother advised the lasses that it was time they be heading to bed. With some minor protests, made just for show, as everyone truly WAS tired, the ladies packed up the picnic and started making their way home. As she passed the two older hobbits sitting on the bench with their pipes puffing, Bell kissed her husband lightly and he gave his girls gentle hugs and kisses "good-night". "Don't be staying up 'till all hours of the night, now, Ham. You know Master Bilbo needs his sleep and the lads are already done in." Her comments were merely words. It was the tone that said, "I love you" and he smiled back at her in acknowledgment.  
  
A smile crept over Bilbo's face as he looked over the sleeping children. For they really all were still children, even Frodo, bless his heart. They had worked hard today. Sam especially. Bilbo worried a bit that the Gaffer expected a lot of the youngster. But it really wasn't his place to tell him how to raise his children. "You get a fair amount of work out of your boy, Ham" Bilbo remarked after blowing a well rounded smoke ring.  
  
The Gaffer reached down and tossled the sleeping lad's hair affectionately. "That I know Master Bilbo" was the reply. Bilbo was going to let the matter drop but Ham added, "he's the best gardener we've had in the family. The other lads are better suited for work in town, but this one, …. he understands the land and he understands the benefits of working fer himself for hire to one such as yourself, if ye don't mind my saying."  
  
Bilbo raised an eyebrow in an unspoken request to continue. He blew another smoke ring and another before the Gaffer explained.  
  
~ End Chapter Nine  
  
Yes, I know I said there were nine chapters, but there's still one more coming. This one took so long because I got into some serious discussions about class structure over at Imladris and had to rethink some of this story. 


	10. Understanding

~ Disclaimer: see Chapter 1. This is the last chapter. If you like this sort of story, please leave a review to the effect. If you have suggestions about the writing style ~ I'd REALLY like to hear. If there are discrepancies, I'd like to know so that I may fix them.  
  
Class Distinction  
  
  
  
Chapter Ten ~ Understanding  
  
"I'm not sure if you see things from my perspective, Master Bilbo…." started the Gaffer after they both had sat for quite awhile saying nothing. Old Ham was referring to the earlier comment by Bilbo that he was hard on his youngest son. His response was something to the effect that his son, Samwise, had the same desire as his father, to work the earth and to be of service. Ham loved the earth and felt more at home gardening than doing anything else. His older sons didn't have that desire, but Sam, now, Sam was one who would follow in his footsteps.  
  
And then there was the matter of Ham moving to town with his cousin so he could have the opportunity to work for someone with a grand garden, not be a crop farmer like his father and uncles. He had lucked out and been taken on as apprentice by Old Holman Greenhand, who managed Bag End's gardens. And when Holman retired, Bilbo kept Hamfast Gamgee on as the sole gardener. Ham was mighty proud of the fact that he managed both his plots and the Baggins' land. And he nearly burst with pride anytime someone commented on the beauty of those grounds. "You gave me a chance to be somethin' more than I thought I could ever be, Sir. And for that, I'm grateful. … But I feel I give ye fair measure in return." Ham put his pipe back in his mouth and made a sideways glance at old Bilbo.  
  
"That you do, Hamfast, more than fair measure!" Bilbo patted the Old Gaffer's shoulder affectionately and smiled broadly.  
  
"And I appreciate you givin' as good an opportunity to my youngest son. I know you and Mister Frodo have been teachin' him his letters. I also know that you've filled his head full of stories of elves and dragons and treasures. But that I don't mind. Because I see in him a will to do what is right. That's important. I have a feelin' deep inside that this boy of mine will do me proud. So I push him. Not too hard, I hope, but hard enough to let him know that I expect him to live up to the Gamgee tradition of creatin' beauty and givin' best that be possible."  
  
"I think I see your view, Ham. Samwise certainly takes after you in respect to giving your best. I've always appreciated that you take care of me and mine". Bilbo let out another smoke ring. "But sometimes I feel at odds with the way you work so hard to keep up my place and to make sure everything is looked after. Yes, yes, I know, I pay you for your work but we're both getting on in years and you won't be able to keep this up for ever, especially by yourself if you apprentice out young Sam as you did your other lads."  
  
"Now, why would I be doin' a fool thing like that, I asks you? Sam is to be a gardener, like me. If you'll have him, he'll take over from me and do for you and Mister Frodo right nice, I suspect. That be another reason I push him. I want him to learn as much as possible so as not to disappoint you. You see, YOU may think of it as simple gardenin' but me? It's a matter of producin' something few people could manage. I figure a simple person who be gardenin' and doin' a service does as important a job as the one who be readin' books and learnin' how to run things as is befittin' a gentle hobbit. Neither could expect the other to do as good a job. Yet both are needed to make sure all works as it should."  
  
"Oh, Master Hamfast, I would NEVER call YOU simple!!! You have a mind as sharp as a hunting knife, no doubt to it" Bilbo laughed out loud and smiled broadly. "Together, I think we make a fairly good team, though I am sure that I am getting the better end of the deal!"  
  
And the two old friends sat late into the night smoking their pipes and talking about nearly nothing. It was such a beautifully warm night what with the breeze taking away the oppressive heat that they let the boys sleep on the grass until they themselves were nodding.  
  
**************  
  
Days passed into months and the seasons changed. It was winter now. Fatty wasn't able to make it out to Bag End as often as Frodo liked and of course his other cousins were locked down tight in the snowy weather. No telling WHERE either of them would wind up if they were let out more than a pace or so from their front yards in the often hip deep snow.  
  
Sensing Frodo's loneliness, Bilbo arranged to have Sam stay the night more and more often to keep the lad company. With the Gamgees living just a few doors down the hill, it was a simple thing to go collect him at tea time and return him after first breakfast. And having someone who actually liked to EAT pleased Bilbo who always fancied himself a more than decent cook. Sam would devour anything put in front of him as long as it looked like food and was on a plate whilst Frodo was a much pickier eater, though he could put away a few vittles when his stomach demanded.  
  
In the evenings they would all sit in front of the fire place with a mugs of ale. Bilbo allowed Sam a mug because Frodo was allowed what ever he desired in the house and Bilbo thought it was rude to not let the lad have some, too. But he drew the line at smoking. Both Bilbo and Frodo smoked but Sam was still too young in his father's opinion, so Bilbo acquiesced to the Gaffer's "law". The elder Baggins would regale the youngsters with stories, most of which Frodo had already heard but to Sam they were new and exciting. To tell the truth, they were still exciting to Frodo, who dreamed of going off some day OUTSIDE the shire on an adventure of his own. Watching Sam and Frodo sit in rapt attention gave Bilbo great delight. Sam even started memorizing songs that Bilbo would sing. He had a decent voice, better than Bilbo, who had managed to inherit the Baggins, not the Took voice.  
  
So winter passed into spring and Sam's overnight stays came to an end. There was just too much work to be done to spare time for the frivolities his dad had allowed during the winter. The Gaffer was pleased that Sam had some entertainment during the long cold and he was even more glad when the lad attacked his spring time chores with relish. He'd be letting the boy go to Bag End next winter if Master Bilbo was thinking on it; considering how energized the young one was after getting his taste of wild stories and late night carry's on (oh, he knew about the ale, Bilbo had asked permission before allowing it).  
  
Before long it was late-summer and Frodo was coming up on his 31 birthday in September. He was sitting on the front bench late one night with a book and his pipe watching the stars come out when Sam came walking up the path with a covered plate. "My mum thought you and Master Bilbo would like this here berry pie she baked extra. They're a mix o' buckleberries and blackberries my sisters picked yesterday." Sam stood in front of Frodo holding out the pie with the loose weave towel draped over it.  
  
"That's very kind of your mother, you be sure to let her know this won't go to waste!" Frodo smiled up at Sam and took the offering. "Sit a bit, if you've the time. I've been thinking on what to give folks for my birthday, and I'd appreciate your input" Frodo placed the treat on the ground beside the bench where it would stay out of the way of hobbit feet.  
  
"Yes sir, I've got some time and I wouldn't mind a smoke, if you don't mind". Frodo hid his shock at Sam's bold comment about smoking. It was obvious that he was bucking his father's authority on the smoking issue as the Gaffer had made it plain that he didn't want Sam starting before he was at least in his mid-tweens and starting when he was just 19 was definitely against the Gaffer's wishes. He didn't say anything though. He just offered Sam some of his pipe weed. He hoped Bilbo wouldn't catch them for he KNEW his uncle would say something to the Gaffer if just to keep in the old Gamgee good graces so he'd let the lad finish up learning his letters this winter. They're luck held out and no one caught the wayward hobbits. They chatted a bit about the weather, pies, the root crops, and what Frodo should give folks on his birthday. He shared a birthday with his uncle and they always threw terrific parties with lots of presents. Hobbits give others presents on their birthdays and one's friends deserved extra special attention. To hear the lads chat, one might almost imagine them as two old hobbits, sitting in their autumn years reminiscing about the good old days. They were that comfortable and all.  
  
Soon the conversation turned to the next day's work. There was a brief respite in Sam's workload and for that he was glad. If he had a full day off, he'd go down to the Cotton farm and get into mischief with his friends down there. But he needed to work until lunch and that didn't leave enough time to make the trip. He wondered aloud just what he would do with his half a free day when Frodo asked, "Sam, why not come swimming tomorrow with Pippin and me? He's coming over at first light to spend a few days. It'll be a grand time and without Merry, Pip should be much calmer than the last time we all tried it." Frodo gave him a lopsided grin.  
  
"Oh, NO, Mister Frodo! I'll not be repeating last year! Why do you keep insistin' on takin' me out into that water when I'm more than happy just dabblin' my feet with the Cotton lads in that little trickle of a stream down their way? It's so shallow, there's no way I'd be drownin' there. But that place where you and your cousins swim, well now, that's just too dangerous for me, if you don't mind my saying." Sam definitely could talk when had the notion. "No! But thank you for askin' " he added with a nod in Frodo's direction. Sam considered the subject closed. He was certainly coming into his own about his opinions and wasn't afraid to voice them when he knew he was in safe company. However safe he felt, still what he was thinking was "I don't mind sayin' your head must be full o' fluff if you think I'm goin' swimmin' ". But he just looked askance at Frodo and said naught.  
  
Frodo could guess what was going on in Samwise's head, though. He had great intuition and was beginning to read Sam like a book. "Oh, not to worry, dear Sam. Pippin will swim and we can sit and talk. I'm not going to force you to do something against your will!" He laughed lightly knowing that he would never be able to force Sam to do anything, Sam was just to strong willed. But, he still had it in his head that if he could get the young gardener to the water and calmed down, he'd get him IN the water and swimming. He KNEW he could do it and it was now a challenge.  
  
As it turned out, Pippin had been caught raiding the pantry of his mother's freshly baked peach tarts and was denied the long looked for trip. The only condolence was that his sister closest to him in age, Pervinca, had been caught with him and was suffering the same fate. They sat together in the corner of the kitchen where their mother could keep an eye on them, plotting the next raid whenever she was busy out of earshot.  
  
So, with Pippin out of the picture, Frodo convinced Sam to go on a picnic down by the water as it would be cooler than sitting out in the sun on the top of their hillside. They took off in the afternoon to the watering hole to "just sit and chat under the trees" as Frodo had promised. It was a good break from work for Sam and a wonderful chance to talk about some of Bilbo's stories with Frodo. Sam never tired of listening to the stories even if they were second hand. "Sir, if you don't mind my askin'…. when are you going to go off on an adventure?" Sam asked after firing a cherry seed at their makeshift target on the ground. They were both fairly good aims so the contest hot.  
  
"Would YOU like to go on an adventure, Samwise?" asked Frodo as he leaned back, resting on his elbows and popping another cherry into his mouth. He quirked an eyebrow at Sam and waited for a response.  
  
"Now, if you're askin' me true, I reckon that the answer would be 'no'. I'm not the adventurin' type, like Master Bilbo. Nor you, I'm guessin'. I can see you've got the wonderin' bug and I suspect you'll be headin' out on your own, maybe even to see the elves. Oh, maybe I WOULD go on a tiny adventure, iffen I would have the chance to see elves…." and he smiled broad, looking up at the trees and sighing.  
  
Frodo laughed in turn, sat up and slapped Sam on the back. "No one can accuse you of not knowing your mind, Sam!" He got up and stared at the water. After a moment he started to walk towards it, slipping his braces off his shoulders and pulling out his shirt tails. Sam immediately knew what was coming.  
  
"Well, I'll be getting' back to the work at home if you're to be swimmin' now" and he started packing up the food they'd been sharing.  
  
Frodo stopped and turned around. He placed his hands on his hips and let out an exasperated breath. But something stopped his voice when he saw the determined set of Sam's face. He realized he'd said it himself, "no one can accuse you of not knowing your mind." This was a battle lost. He'd never get Sam swimming. Ever in his lifetime. "Well, you win some and you loose some" he thought. He returned to the picnic spot and silently helped Sam finish packing up their stuff.  
  
Sam smiled inwardly, knowing he was the victor in this small squirmish. He admired Frodo for giving up gracefully. If it had been Meriadoc, he knew that in the end, Mister Merry would have settled for nothing less than bodily throwing him in the river. Not that he'd be able to do that, Sam was bigger. But it would have been a fight none the less. Sam thought that agreeing to disagree was the best course for everyone in this instance. He smiled again as Frodo slipped his braces back over his shoulders and tucked in his shirt.  
  
And as they started off down the path back to Bag End, Frodo put his arm over Sam's shoulders and gave them gentle squeeze. They walked a pace like this before Sam reached over a placed an arm around Frodo's waist and gave an answering hug. They let their arms drop and continued on side by side back the their homes. Their display of budding friendship was obvious to anyone who saw them, but no one did. There would be those folks who throughout their lives felt that the Baggins' gave far too much in the way of favors to folks that weren't their family and who were, in all honesty, just hired help. It just wasn't "proper" some said (mostly the Sackville- Baggins relatives) and not "normal" others whispered (mostly busy bodies like Sandyman). But then Frodo was part Took and half Brandybuck (and therefore not always considered "proper") AND a Baggins to boot (and therefore was bound to be considered not "normal" by a long shot). Sam, well, Sam was Samwise Gamgee, a gentle hobbit in spirit if not in class with a strong sense of duty and fierce streak of loyalty that ran in the Gamgee family. And their friendship grew to something that would bind them together until the end of time.  
  
~ end Chapter Ten  
  
~ End of Story  
  
REVIEWS APPRECIATED 


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